Shatter
by Angst Is My Middle Name
Summary: Set at the end of 'Merry Little Christmas' when Wilson finds House on the floor. Wilsoncentric, oneshot. Rated to be on the safe side. R&R!


**_Disclaimer: I don't own House or anything affliated... just this fanfic. Sorry if I didn't get some of the little details right. Oh, and the quote at the bottom is mine. Made it up all by myself._**

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"House! Are you in there? I called three times!" I shouted through the door, "House?"

I stepped in. Thank goodness I still had my key to the apartment.

"House?"

Still no answer. I looked around, but saw no sign of him. I stepped in a little more and wrinkled my nose. I could smell vomit. Dread settled in my stomach, pumped through my body. Then…

"House!"

There he was, lying on the floor, a little puddle of vomit next to him. I ran to him as fast as I could, and it did not feel fast enough. I rolled him onto his back; I called his name again. Greg opened his eyes, the clear blue eyes that held so much knowledge and pain. They were now sort of glazed over and rolled a little in their sockets behind half-closed eyelids. I was about to pull out my phone and call an ambulance when I saw it. I saw it, and all thoughts of helping him drained away.

A prescription for my dead patient. For Oxycontin. I dropped it next to his head. I was too disgusted to speak. I hoped whatever look was on my face or in my eyes conveyed my only thought of 'How could you?' Greg did this to himself. On purpose. It wasn't an accident. I could tell by the by the near-empty bottle of Jack Daniels on the coffee table. I looked back once before I left. Greg looked so pitiful on the floor, trying not put his head in his own vomit. But pity seemed to be what he wanted. So I left him there.

However, by the time I got to my own apartment, my anger had dissipated. I now cursed myself for my decision to leave him there. When I had rolled him over, and he opened his eyes, I had seen the tiniest glimmer of hope. It was as though he'd been thinking, 'Wilson's here now. Yes I'll be fine. He'll save me.'

Yet I left him to lay on the floor, be pitiable, wondering why his best friend, his Wilson, had left him. The same places before been filled by dread and fear and anger were now filled with guilt and self-loathing. I quickly stripped down and deposited my wet clothes in the dryer, then got in the shower. I stayed in the shower much longer than I normally would've. Perhaps I thought it could wash away my guilt, cleanse my mind. When I got out, though, I felt no better than I did when I'd gotten in. If anything, I felt worse than before.

I crawled into bed after putting on my pyjamas; I had no desire to do anything but sleep. However, the one thing I wanted to do, I found myself unable to do. I turned into every position I could think of, tossing restlessly for an entire half-hour. I found my mind wandering to Greg, wondering if he was still on the floor, if he was conscious, if he knew the seriousness of what he had done.

_ I shouldn't have left him. What if he hates me now? I was only trying to help him. He knows I was only trying to help him, doesn't he?_

These thoughts whipped around my head frantically. Tears rolled slowly down my cheeks. I did not stop them. It was a few moments before I realised that I was sitting up in bed, clutching my pillow to my chest like a frightened child with a stuffed animal. Murmurs I could not control passed my lips, and I heard myself whimpering, "I was trying to help him. I was only trying to help him."

I wasn't sure if my words became thoughts or if my thoughts became words. I was slowly passing out of logic and reasonable thought processes in my angst. I'm not sure whether I fell asleep that night or not, but I woke (or came to) the next morning not wanting to hurt House anymore, feeling no better than the night before.

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_"Friendship is like those spindly glass figures in the cabinet your mother had that you were never allowed to touch..._

_Beautiful to look upon and to have but easily shattered when handled too roughly."_


End file.
